


Cures

by vianne78



Series: Danae - Shorts and Drabbles [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Her past is mentioned but nothing graphic, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Making Love, Post-Quest, Romance, Sex, Side Quests, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vianne78/pseuds/vianne78
Summary: An unexpectedly bothersome quest has left Danae irked and restless. Maybe her husband-to-be could help.





	Cures

She was rammed against the wall and pain shot up her back, air left her lungs with a muffled oomph and for a moment, or eternity, she couldn’t breathe. At the same time even more draugr kept rising from the coffins, and through the lights dancing in her eyes, she spotted deathlords among them.

Ysmir, Mara and Sithis.

She heard an enraged roar from the other side of the large chamber, around the area where she had last seen her husband-to-be. Two of them against a whole damn swarm of these abominable creatures. Nothing new under the sun. Or inside a tomb.

The quick healing spell worked instantly, and she managed to drop a few with some well-aimed sunhallowed arrows, before she had to switch to Dawnbreaker and dive back into close combat. She was searching for Vorstag while beheading one and impaling another of the undead, and just as she saw him hacking through a regular throng, a deathlord’s shout toppled her over again.

This was getting old, really fast. She shrieked furiously, used the momentum to roll back on her feet and retaliated.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Her Thu’um was much more impressive, if she said so herself. It took care of several weaker ones, and sent the deathlords in its path flying. It’d take them some time to return, offering the pair of them a window to get rid of the others first. 

She charged in to aid Vorstag, and for a while they were fighting back to back, Danae with her sword and Vorstag with his heavily enchanted scimitars. They were very efficient at that, and not many of the walking corpses were left when the strongest ones returned. Just as they did return, she landed several blows on a nasty scourge, and like it was meant to be, the final strike of her sword caused a spectacular explosion. It effectively wiped out all but three, and Danae kissed Dawnbreaker’s handle, grinning madly.

“That’s my woman!” Vorstag threw an answering grin over his shoulder and attacked two deathlords head on. The man was completely insane. She loved him like crazy. She followed him into the fight, determined not to let him win the kill count this time.

The last deathlord seemed to have endless shouts and annoying resilience, and every time they thought it was finished, had to be finished, it rose on its feet again. Sweet Meridia, the thing was on fire! Why couldn’t it just die already? Vorstag slashed it magnificently with both blades, staggering it, but just as Danae was about to attack, it threw its ebony axe at Vorstag. 

And it hit. He fell on his knee, the axe jutting nauseatingly from his gut, and Danae screamed in rage.

“You - miserable - brainless - bastard - why - won’t - you - just - die!” She punctuated the words with her sword, using both hands when it actually required only one, and slowly made it take faltering steps back. It made one more attempt to shout, but nothing came out, and finally, finally Dawnbreaker caused it to explode into ashes. She whirled around, only to see Vorstag crumpled to the ground in a puddle of his own blood, curled around the ebony weapon. He wasn’t moving.

“No! No no no no, you do not get to do this to me!” She dashed to him, sword clattering on the stone floor. His skin was covered in cold sweat and he was hardly breathing. She started to cast a spell to force some life into him, just to keep him _there_ , before she grabbed the black handle and pulled the axe out of his stomach, with everything she had, gagging at the wet sound. More blood gushed out and he spasmed, before she managed to close the wound with another spell and continue the healing. It took forever for him to come to.

Just as she was about to pass out from the continuous use of magic, he woke up. All at once he opened his eyes and sprang up, looking around wildly, until he saw her. She was on her knees, pale and out of breath, but relieved out of her mind and smiling brilliantly.

“Warn me next time, okay? Scared the living daylights out of me,” she managed.

“I guess this was payback from last week,” he chided, but his voice was soft and hands gentle, when he grabbed her arms and helped her up. She winced. He had indeed saved her her life, when a shoal of slaughterfish had managed to take her completely by surprise.

She would never again bathe without her enchanted waterbreathing ring.

Or in any body of water she couldn’t see the bottom of.

“Are you hurt?” He was searching her armor for visible damage. She shook her head weakly.  
“Not at all. The spell just…” She didn’t finish, didn’t have to. He understood.

He glanced around at the carnage. “I think that’s all of them, and I didn’t see any more doors around, either. It should be safe now. We can start checking the loot, I’ll just go and fetch you some pick-me-up first.” He smiled at her, and then he was gone.

She leaned on the wall and willed her heart to even its frantic pace. Him lying on the floor, dying like that, had felt like her worst nightmares coming true right before her eyes. The sound of the axe hitting him would haunt her for a good while.

***

“Lucky you’re a skilled alchemist.”

The potion sent a shot of energy through her exhausted body, and she felt more like herself again. Ready to face the world.

“Lucky I’m a skilled mage, too,” she grinned, hooking her arm around his neck. His arms wrapped around her back to pull her flush against him, and their armor clanked together.

“Let’s just keep saving each other. For the rest of our lives, maybe?” He murmured, searching her mouth, and she agreed, smiling into the kiss.

It took some time, but they did eventually pull apart. They still had work to do, an heirloom to find, before they could leave this tomb behind.  
So that’s what they did.

Trouble wasn’t over yet, though.  
They hadn’t even stepped outside, when they heard Shadowmere’s furious neigh, followed by a coughing roar. 

Vorstag sighed. “Sabre cat.”

“Figures.” 

And they went running.

***

On their - really very short - way to report back to the Companions, they faced two bears, a sneaky vampire, an annoyingly well barricaded bandit roadblock, several spiders, and a pack of wolves. An unusually large pack of wolves. Sun was already very low, and they had little time to reach Whiterun before nightfall.

“What on Nirn did we do to deserve all this? It’s taken us all day to get back, and we should have arrived in just a couple of hours,” Danae grumbled. “It was supposed to be a routine errand.” She was dirty, banged up, tired and cranky. He was dirty, banged up and tired.

“There’s the watchtower now, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah. If nothing else attacks us.”

“Shush, don’t even say that, or something will...oh for the love of Talos.”

A dragon was screaming in the sky, approaching the same watchtower. Shadowmere was already charging ahead, as usual, and Danae reached for her bow, sighing.

“Right. I promise I’ll shut up next time.”

***

Danae dropped the heirloom on the table, in front of Vilkas. Well, it might have landed in his soup bowl, a little, by accident. What kind of a stupid heirloom was a damn fork, anyway?

“What do you…” Vilkas began and raised his eyes to frown at her, but swallowed the rest. She looked terrible, they both did. And irritated, to put it kindly. Blood and dirt covered them from head to toe, her hair was in wild disarray, and her silver eyes were glowing dangerously.

Vilkas was a smart man, and weighed his next words carefully.

“There is still plenty of hot bathwater downstairs. New soaps, too. Tilma thought the air was getting a little heavy around here, so she made us all - ah, but that’s beside the point. Thank you for, uh, delivering the heirloom. I’ll make sure your reward is counted for by the morning.”

Danae didn’t say anything, didn’t trust in her ability to keep it civil, just swirled around and stomped to the living quarters. The door banged closed so forcefully, the Companions around the table cringed and dust sprinkled down from the high beams.

***

Tilma (the wisest lady in Tamriel) had assessed the situation with one glance. She sent a couple of whelps to help them get out of their armor and lead them to their respective baths, and then Danae was sinking nose-deep into heavenly scented, almost scalding water. It soothed her aching muscles so well, she didn’t care one bit it also stung in her remaining bruises.

Later, just as she was sure her skin would start coming loose and float to the surface, Tilma came in, gently helped her wash up, and wrapped her in a warm robe and clean towels. Soon she was sitting by the fire, slowly untangling her hair with her fingers.

She should’ve been relaxed and tired, but her thoughts were in complete disarray, body wound tight. At this rate she would soon vibrate through the chair. What was wrong with her? She was still restless and annoyed and itching for a fight, and it irritated her even more since they had been doing just that, all day.

Maybe she was just hungry, and food would solve everything.  
She dropped the towels in a basket and stomped off to find a damn sweetroll. Or an apple. Something.

In the hallway she ran into something hard. That something stopped her from falling by grabbing her arms. It irked her.

“For Mara’s sake, can’t you look where you’re going?” She demanded, gritting her teeth, before even looking who it was.

“I’m not the one running carelessly around corners here,” Vorstag retorted, but amusement was evident in his voice. It irked her even more.

“Do you find this funny, or perhaps I’m funny to you? Or maybe you…oh.” All thoughts flew out of her head and she forgot what she was supposed to say.

She had never seen quite so much of him, and what she saw now, made her breath hitch.

He was beautiful. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist, another in his hand, that he’d probably used to dry his long, golden brown hair.   
She was eye level with his broad shoulders and bare chest. Looking at him, she felt a hot flush spread all through her body, making her shift, rub her thighs together in an effort to ease the sudden heavy ache between them.

Danae was not very experienced, but she was also not born yesterday. She knew what her body was telling her. Or rather, screaming at her. A smattering of hair on his chest tempted her eyes to follow it’s narrowing path all the way down to the towel’s edge, where it disappeared.

“Like what you see?” His voice was huskier, but the amusement was still there. 

She forced her eyes up to look at his face, and whatever he saw in her gaze, made him draw a quick breath and lose the grin. His body responded, muscles bunching and goosebumps covering his skin. Suddenly he radiated heat and tension.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might get the wrong idea,” he finally murmured.

Danae saw the chance and took it.

“No,” she corrected, licking her lips. “I think you’re getting exactly the right idea.”

His eyes widened slightly.

“Please, come with me, if...if you’d like.” And without pausing to wait for his reaction, she circled around him to make her way to her room.

They had kissed, oh, they had kissed endlessly, and teased and flirted in every turn, but nothing more. She knew he was being so careful with her because of her past. And they weren’t married yet, so maybe he thought they shouldn’t? If so, she’d understand completely. If he didn’t follow her now, she could nurse her embarrassment without the memory of rejection on his face.

Now, after bumping into him, seeing him almost completely bare before her, she knew exactly what the restlessness and the itching was for, and it most definitely wasn’t for another fight.   
She got into her room, and was elated to find he was right behind her.

He closed the door and paused as if hesitating. She couldn’t stop staring at him - the defined muscles on his back, his strong arms and thighs, and the round shape of his ass under the towel. She stepped closer to him, tried to explain.

“I thought I was just irritated, or restless or maybe hungry, but I think...no, I know I’m not. It’s you. I want you. I want you so much it’s making my head spin.” She smiled sheepishly. “I was even ready to strangle Vilkas.”

Finally he turned to look at her. He wasn’t smiling.   
“And I want you. So bad. But I was willing to wait,” he swallowed, “ _am_ willing to wait, if you just say the word.” 

She nodded.  
“I understand,” and then shook her head, “but I really, really don’t want to wait, not a moment longer.”

That was all he needed. He reached for her, and she met him halfway, and then his mouth was on hers. She mewled into the searing kiss, eagerly touching his shoulders and arms wherever she could reach.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he breathed against her lips, and she wanted everything but didn’t know how to say it, so she dropped her hands on the belt of her robe.

“Your skin on mine,” she whispered, and he immediately obeyed.

The robe fell off and they were kissing again and his big hands were on her, lighting fires in their wake, and still it wasn’t enough. She pulled the towel off of him to lay her hands on him but before she had time to, he lifted her and then she was lying on the bed, his hair falling around her face like a curtain as he leaned in to continue ravaging her mouth. His skin was burning under her fingers. She felt like she was burning, too.

Teeth gently nipping here and there, he trailed a path down her throat to her sternum. Her back arched in a helpless plea for something more, and then the tip of her breast was in his mouth, tongue laving it, sending jolts straight to her core and she gasped at the feeling. He sucked the nipple lightly, rolling his tongue around it, teasing until it was hard and aching and the pleasure was so intense she keened. Then he moved on to the other.

He took his time, listening to her, learning how hard or light or firm she liked to be touched.

“Please, Vorstag, please, more,” she whimpered between gasps, begging him with her feverish eyes, and Vorstag hummed.

“I love the pleas. I love the sounds you make.” His words were hot on her hypersensitive skin. He was settling next to her, and as he kissed her again, she felt his hand gently spread her thighs and brush against the soft curls in her apex, where she was so hot and throbbing.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, but she didn’t, no, she wanted more, and lifted her hips to urge his hand.

“Please, I want to know what your touch feels like.”

His talented fingers dipped carefully between her lips and slid easily along her wet slit.  
Long, slow, tantalizing strokes. Her mouth fell open as her eyes closed, world narrowing down to the dizzying pleasure he was offering.

He unhurriedly mapped and traced her every fold and dip, making her sigh and arch and whimper, her muscles coil in anticipation of something. And just as she was about to beg for more still, then, right then his fingers found something, found and focused on it, and the tiny little bud was suddenly the center of her universe and his touch was magical and featherlight, and the circles he drew on it so very small, but it made her mewl in need and urgency and oh, she was falling, surely she was falling or was she flying? The rush of her orgasm blocked the rest of the world out and left her riding the white-hot wave in his hands.

Her eyes fluttered open and found him looking at her, a small smile playing on his lips.  
“So that’s what what your touch feels like,” she managed softly, and her answering smile was dazzling.

He propped some pillows behind his back and leaned against them, half sitting, and took Danae’s hand. She rose eagerly to straddle him.  
Her silvery white hair fell around her shoulders in a shiny halo, a few strands brushing the sides of her round breasts. Her eyes were soft, heated, half-lidded.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said, wonder in his voice. She smiled, leaned in to kiss him.

“I want you. I want you to have me now,” she whispered against his mouth, shifting until his erection was trapped between his stomach and her slit, and she felt it pulse against her.  
He took a hold of her hips, lifted her, reached down to position himself against her wet folds. Then he stilled and looked into her eyes.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he rasped, waiting for her to move, almost holding his breath.  
With the smallest shift she made him grunt, felt the head start to sink in, and it felt good. So good. She was ready. She wanted him to fill her. His mouth was open a little, his gaze so full of desire it made her heart skip a beat.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she repeated his words to him, started to slide down, making them both gasp for breath. Slowly, so slowly she took him in, rising back up a little and sliding further down again, until he was sheathed fully inside her, his girth stretching her so much it burned a little, but even that felt more than good. She paused to revel in the moment.  
His eyes were squeezed shut and he was groaning.

When she was about to lift her hips, he hastily stopped her.  
“Please don’t move yet, please” he pleaded, words scrambled and his body trembling.

He was throbbing inside her and she understood, tried to stay still, holding back gasps.

The thought that she could make Vorstag almost lose control was intoxicating. She ran her fingers on his damp, hot skin.  
She leaned to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, her taut nipples brushing his chest lightly.

Finally he allowed her to move, and she did, lifting almost all the way up, and then sank back down again, slowly, carefully at first, then more confidently, and soon he moved into her rhythm, their mouths and bodies fusing and molding together.

She felt like she was about to burst with wanton hunger, her moves more urgent, erratic, head thrown back, fingers helplessly digging into his chest.   
His breath was coming in pants and he was murmuring pleas and praises and curses, and then his thumb found that spot again, sliding over it in a steady, relentless pace, and she felt another orgasm taking over her, so much stronger now when he was moving inside her and she couldn’t help it, she wailed her release as she pulsed around him, still moving, squeezing him so tight he couldn’t hold back and followed her, hands almost bruising on her hips.

***

They were basking in the afterglow, wrapped up in each other.

Her finger traced the faint scar on his abdomen, the one left by the deathlord’s axe.  
A healing spell mostly took care of the scars, too, but this had been different, to be sure.

His arm was warm around her, her head resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over his.  
There was something she needed to say, and she was searching for words.

“You know this was not...my first time, exactly.” She hesitated. He knew her story. Everything she could remember, he knew, but still she felt the need to clarify.

“I know what happened to you in the past, my love. That wasn’t the same. At all.” His voice was so soft. “I love you, Danae. More than anything. I will never harm you. And I’m going to do everything in my power to show you how different everything can be.”

She shifted, lifted her chin to look at him.

“You already have. Before, it… it meant being terrified. But with you… When I’m with you, I’m not afraid of anything.”   
Just now, he had let her be in total control to make their first time as different from her past as possible. She adored him even more for it. She smiled.  
“When you touch me, you bring joy, and pleasure, and love.” 

She brushed a few strands of his hair from his cheek, lingering on the light touch.  
“It might not make much sense, but I feel like in every way it matters, you are my first. I love you. And I trust you. With everything I am.”

His eyes were gentle and solemn when he bent his head to kiss her. She sighed against his lips, and they held on to each other even tighter.  
Her irritated restlessness was long gone.


End file.
